


Rainy Day Play

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hair Pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, NSFW. At All. Wincest x Reader. Light Wincest. Dom!Sam, Oral, Sub!Dean, all the sex. lots of sex. all kinds of sex. also: biting, and then some fluff., bit o’ roughness, cum swapping, orgasm denial to the max, praise!kink, some more oral, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:31:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~When work gets called on account of rain, Sam decides the three of you could use a little play time~





	Rainy Day Play

It was raining.

Not that gentle rain that’s fun to walk through in the summertime, when the cold droplets land on your skin and cool you gently. Not the faint mist that almost isn’t there, but still dampens the world.

No, it was raining. Hard. That heavy, torrential kind of rain that almost hurts, makes you feel like you’re walking under a waterfall. The kind that closes streets and bridges because they flood; the kind that halts traffic and makes life generally tiresome.

It was that kind of rain.

You and the Winchesters were neck deep in the middle of a case, but sadly, the little town of Clarksville was closed. All because of the rain.

You and Dean knew this and chose to stay at the motel to ride out the storm, but Sam had higher hopes and spent the day running around trying to collect more clues and interviews. By four in the afternoon, he’d given up.

Sam sighed loudly as he walked into the room. A gust of wind and rain pellets closed the door for him, and he jumped, startled by the noise, a little stressed out and exhausted. You and Dean were sitting on the foot of the first bed, a pack of cards spread out between you, playing a not-so-exciting round of War.

You looked up after your turn and watched Sam shrug out of his jacket and tug at his tie. He looked aggravated and soggy.

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled and he nodded a bit in your direction.

“Find anything good out there?” Dean asked, not bothering to twist his head around to look at Sam.

“Not a thing,” Sam grunted and toed off his shoes.

You frowned and went back to the game, flipping over a two that Dean snagged with his five.

Sam shrugged. “Tomorrow’s another day.” He shuffled around behind Dean, folding his sports coat, tidying up the table, tossing away burger wrappers.

He seemed agitated and on edge, but you kept your attention on the game, trying to beat Dean for the third time. He was such a sore loser; it never failed to make you laugh.

When the trash was cleared and the room was back in order, Sam took a seat at the table, his back to the rain-drenched window. He fiddled with his phone a bit, but his hands were twitching. He leaned back, trying to relax, but his leg bounced with idle energy. Finally, he crossed his arms and set his eyes on you.

You felt him staring after a minute and looked up with a smile.

“You ok, Sam?“ you asked, looking away to claim the seven of hearts from an annoyed Dean.

"I’m bored,” Sam replied, his voice deep and hard. It was darker than you’d heard it in a while, the words sliding off of his tongue like molasses, sweet and rich.

You bit your lip and looked over Dean’s shoulder at Sam, your heart racing just a bit when you saw the look in his eyes. “You, uh, wanna play?” you asked, holding up your stack of cards. “Dean’s almost out anyway.”

“Am not,” Dean huffed and played a three, which you swept up quickly with your nine.

Sam shook his head gently. “No.”

You held your breath as Sam pushed away from the table and walked towards you, his bare feet lightly scratching the worn carpet.

“I don’t want to play cards,” he said, and you swallowed hard, a faint smile of excitement painting your lips.

Dean remained oblivious, more focused on the cards in your hand and the thought of finally winning a round. “Oh?” he muttered as Sam reached you. “What do ya wanna play?” He flipped over a Jack and gave himself a little cheer at the high card.

You turned over your card, but your eyes were on Sam as he reached out and placed a firm hand on your upper arm. Dean, having won the round, let out a triumphant yelp before falling silent as Sam’s left hand closed on his shoulder. The two of you sat, frozen, eyes lifting to Sam as he towered above you. 

“I think I’d like to play with my two favorite toys,” he said with a devilish smirk. As if on cue, lightning cracked through the stormy sky outside the big window and lit Sam’s kaleidoscope eyes, showing you his plans. 

Dean seemed uninfluenced by the flash of light or the swirling greens and browns looking down at him. He gave a soft, dismissive laugh and tried to move away, but Sam’s hand slid slowly up to cradle Dean’s shadowed jaw, holding him in place. Dean’s eyes widened and his chest rose with a quick breath.

“I know it’s been a while, Dean,” Sam said in a soothing voice, lulling Dean easily into complacency. “But you remember, don’t you?”

Dean’s lips parted as he exhaled slowly, and you could almost see the tension leaving his shoulders. He relaxed, his eyelids falling slightly as he stared up at Sam. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered in reply and nodded subtly. “I remember.”

Sam smiled and rubbed Dean’s cheek gently before turning to you. He cupped your face in the same manner and drew his thumb over your lips.

“And you?” he asked, softly pressing the tip of his thumb between your lips, drawing the bottom down and away. “Do you want to play, Pretty Girl?”

Taking a deep breath, you smiled and nodded. “Yes, Sam.”

His fingers tensed on your cheek and his voice was hard. “What?”

“Sir,” you corrected quickly, “yes, Sir.”

“That’s better.”

Sam smiled and you felt the world fall away. He held you there for a moment, just looking between you both as a king might observe his subjects.

Satisfied and ready to begin, Sam moved away, walking backwards and letting his hands slowly slide from your faces. You and Dean both rose from the bed, following without prompt, guided by the look in Sam’s eyes.

He stopped before his calves hit the armchair behind him and grabbed your upper arm, pulling you the rest of the way and leaning in for a kiss. It was hot and heavy, and tasted bitter like the espresso he’d been drinking all day. Sam’s hands moulded around your back and ass, holding you against his hard body as he licked into your open mouth. You swooned, letting your mind relax, giving in to him. Your body reacted instinctively, tingling and tightening in all the right places, ready for him.

Sam’s giant hands wove through your hair, trailed down your spine, cupped your breast. When your whimper came, loud and desperate, Sam pulled away, breaking contact with you totally, leaving you swaying and searching for his touch.

He chuckled as you blinked, trying to regain yourself, and then turned his eyes to Dean.

Dean had been watching the whole time, his mouth watering as he watched you melt in Sam’s arms. When Sam approached, Dean flinched, his gaze filling with doubt again. His shoulders tensed when Sam touched them, but Dean didn’t move away, didn’t say a word. He wanted it too, needed it, and he knew it was so much easier to just not to think.

Sam leaned down and Dean pulled in a breath that seeped out slowly against Sam’s lips. Their kiss is slow and familiar, and even though it had been a while since their last, their bodies remembered.

Dean rocked on his heels, swaying as the kiss deepened, but Sam held him steady, wrapping a strong arm around his back. When Sam was done, he leaned away slowly, the tip of his tongue curling against Dean’s plump lips. Dean let out a tiny moan as his eyes rolled, and Sam smiled, watching as the first layer of resistance fell quietly away.

Seeing Dean relax, watching him give in slowly and entirely, turned you on more than your own submission. Your body ached with arousal as you watched Sam’s giant hands glide across Dean’s chest, soothing him with gentle caresses, entrancing him with his words.

“Such a good boy, Dean,” Sam whispered as he hooked a finger around Dean’s belt. Dean whimpered in utter abandon and your pussy clenched with excitement. When Sam yanked at Dean’s belt, forcing his hips to jut forward, you bit your lip and sighed, absentmindedly running a hand down between your legs. Your thighs twitched and when Dean moaned again, caught in Sam’s kiss, so did you, and it did not go unnoticed.

Sam’s lips hovered over Dean’s, but his eyes flashed to you. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, leaving Dean to turn his attention to you. You jumped as he approached, quickly pulling your hand from your jeans, and bowing your head.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you said in a rush, watching his feet shuffle over the carpet, stopping in front of you.

“It seems you’ve forgotten your rules.” There was a slight lift to his words, as if he was amused by your misstep, and a smile pinched at the corners of your lips, imagining his playful stare.

You shook your head and pulled in a deep breath. “No, Sir.”

Sam drew his warm hand across your cheek and lifted your chin with two fingers. You knew better than to look him in the eye without permission, so your face lifted, but your eyes stayed down.

“No?” he asked, leaning down to try and catch your eye. “Then tell me, what are your rules?”

You swallowed hard and recited your rules, your body relaxing with each word as you sank deeper. “I do not touch without permission. I do not cum without permission.”

Sam smiled. “That’s right, Pretty Girl. And why are those your rules?” His fingers burned on your skin.

“Because good girls don’t touch what isn’t theirs.”

“And what are you?”

“A good girl,” you said quickly.

A hungry growl rolled in the back of Sam’s throat and his hand slid down from your cheek. He ran the tips of his fingers across the tender flesh at the base of your throat and traced your collarbone with seductive pressure. “We’ll see about that.”

Sam’s touch fell away, shocking you at the speed of his departure. He took a step back and turned to Dean, motioning at you with a broad sweep of his hand. “Dean…take her clothes off.” Dean moved instantly to comply, but Sam held up a finger in warning. “Do not touch her.”

Dean nodded in understanding and stood before you. Very carefully, he lifted the hem of your shirt, pinching the fabric between his fingers, pulling it up and away from your skin. He guided the cotton upwards and you lifted your arms, helping him to slip it over your head.

Dean tossed the shirt away and dropped his hands to your jeans. Careful not to brush against your stomach, he took his time with the button and then slid the zipper down slowly. Your heart was racing, your body screaming to be touched, but Dean was good and not even a molecule of his skin grazed yours.

Dean sank to his knees with your jeans and you helped him by lifting each leg and kicking away the denim. When his hands lifted to grasp the thin fabric of your black panties, Sam cleared his throat and stopped him cold.

“No hands.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide and he nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes, Sir.”

You dare to look up at Sam who had taken a seat finally in the armchair across the room, watching you both carefully. He gave you a quick smile as Dean attacked, pulling at your panties with his mouth. You gasped and looked down, watching as Dean used his tongue and plump lips to lift the fabric from your hip and grab it with his teeth.

By the time Dean had shimmied the panties down your legs, you were dripping, aching, shaking on your feet. You swayed a bit as Dean stood to remove your bra, slowly walking behind you and bending to take the clasp in his mouth. His breath fanned across your back and your eyes rolled back, so lost in the simple sensation. Sam laughed and shifted in his seat, growing hard as he watched the production.

When Dean came around to guide the straps from your shoulders, you nearly kissed him, loving the wet sheen on his lips and the focused yet empty look in his eyes. He was on task, and it was beautiful to see.

You shivered when the final bit of clothing fell away, your nipples hardening in the cold and Sam’s intense gaze. Dean stepped back and stood by Sam’s left side, waiting, watching you with an equally acute stare.

Sam sat back and lifted his right leg to rest on his left knee. He crossed his arms and hooked a finger above his lip, narrowing his eyes at you, making you wait. The tension was high and your blood was singing. You could feel both men devour you with their eyes, leaving no spot untouched.

After what felt like hours, Sam waved his hand nonchalantly and said, “Well, you wanted to play so badly… go ahead. Play.”

A wave of excitement washed over you, closing your eyes for a second while your heart skipped in anticipation. “Yes, Sir.” You nodded and lifted a hand to your chest, but again came Sam’s deep voice, switching things up.

“On your knees,” he said firmly, and you sank instantly, your body responding to his order without a single thought. “Spread your legs.”

You pushed your knees apart and got comfortable, the hard, scratchy carpet offered little in the way of cushioning, but you didn’t care. That wasn’t the point. This wasn’t for you; this was for Sam.

The second your fingers brushed over your clit, you nearly came. Dean had you so worked up without even touching you, it surprised you, but felt incredible. You closed your eyes and began to rub tiny, soft circles around your aching clit, rocking your hips ever so gently in time with your movements. Your free hand rose to your breast and you toyed with your nipples, biting your lip as the pleasure grew and grew.

Sam sighed happily and uncrossed his legs. “Isn’t she beautiful, Dean?”

Dean’s mouth was watering as he watched you move, and he sucked in a shallow breath as he replied. “Very.”

Their deep voices and loving admiration swirled inside your head and you began to shake, moaning pathetically as your orgasm loomed close by.

“Stop.”

Sam’s command cut through everything and you froze immediately, dropping your hands to your sides and panting to calm your breathing.

“Stand up.”

Your legs were shaking, but you did as you were told, thankful that Sam had risen as well, for you teetered forward a bit, falling into his arms.

Sam wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. The safety of his arms was intoxicating and you took a deep breath, relaxing in his warmth.

“My perfect girl,” he cooed as he pushed back slightly to look you over. You smiled and he kissed you deeply, causing another jolt of passion to flow through your system. “So beautiful.” His lips trailed down your neck and shoulders as his hands slipped over your curves. “So sexy.” Your head rolled on your shoulders as his mouth closed over your left nipple.

Dean stood back, his eyes wide, his hands idle and twitching, watching as Sam took care of you, winding you back up. You moaned loudly when Sam’s long fingers teased your pussy and he looked up to see your eyes locked on Dean.

“Do you want him?” he asked gently, not a hint of jealousy or anger in his voice.

“Yes, Sir, I do,” you whimpered in reply, nearly gasping as Sam pumped his middle finger deep inside your wetness.

Sam pulled away completely and stood up, stepping aside for you. “Then go ahead.”

There was a second’s hesitation, but Sam nodded towards Dean, and you smiled, taking the treat you were being offered. Dean rushed forward when you did, meeting you in the middle and taking you in his arms. Your kiss was deep and instant; no awkward searching or teasing pecks. It was full and hungry, and you moaned into his mouth as your hands tugged at his short hair, trying to pull him inside of you, to absorb him entirely.

Dean breathed into you, his body pushing against you until you had no choice but to walk backwards. He guided you slowly towards the bed, needing to lay you down, to feel all of you, but again, Sam stopped you both.

“Strip him.”

There was no ceremony, and thankfully, Sam did not command any. Your fingers tore at the buttons of his gray plaid, roughly pushed the flannel from his broad shoulders, tugged if off of his arms. You kissed your way up from his wrist to shoulder as your hands pushed up his black tee. Dean was panting by the time his head emerged from the cotton, and he grabbed your cheeks in both hands, crushing his lips to yours as you struggled with his belt.

“Oh, God…” Dean moaned as you dropped his pants, your soft hands sliding firmly down his thighs, careful not to touch his cock without permission. Sam was watching every move you made, and you were not going to slip up again.

Dean grit his teeth and looked down at you with heavy eyes, finding you on your knees again, guiding the fabric from his legs. You grinned up at him and he shivered. “Fuck, Y/N/N.”

His cock twitched and you licked your lips, craving the salty tang on your tongue. You swallowed and looked to Sam with wide, innocent eyes.

“Please, Sir, may I play with his cock?”

Sam nodded. “Go ahead.”

With a grin, you pressed up on your knees and parted your lips, ready to begin, but it wouldn’t be so easy.

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Hands.”

Sam smirked and found his way back to the chair as you stood up and guided Dean to the bed. His body rigid and tense, but his eyes were vacant, his mouth slack, his mind filled with compliance and anticipation.

With your palms on his chest, you pushed Dean down onto the foot of the bed and climbed into his lap. His cock brushed against your stomach and he whimpered as you ran your hands through his hair, scratching and teasing a bit more before setting to work.

Dean closed his eyes and tickled your back with lazy fingers as you closed your fist around his cock, gently pumping him, building a pace to match his breath. You licked at his neck, sucking a mark beneath his ear, and Dean’s fingers dug into your flesh.

“Fuck, baby, that feels so good.” Dean’s voice was gravel, choked by the fire in his veins.

Sam cleared his throat. “No talking, Dean.”

Dean gasped and whined as he answered, bucking his hips as your thumb brushed over his leaking slit. “Yes, Sir.”

You stroked him faster, but Sam wasn’t done. “Y/N… I can’t see.”

You looked back at Sam over your shoulder and he raised a brow, waiting for you to move. You left Dean with a quick kiss on his cheek and slinked away, crawling onto the bed behind him. On your knees, you pressed yourself against his back and let him relax into you, his head falling to the crook of your neck. Dean grabbed your arms, holding on as you wrapped your hands around him, slowly picking up where you’d left off.

“That’s better, thank you,” Sam praised. His cock was painfully full, but he remained calm, pressing his palm down over his erection, teasing himself. “Doesn’t that feel good, Dean? Y/N’s hands are amazing.”

Dean bit his lip and curled in on himself, shrinking inwards as his stomach tightened, so ready to explode. “Y-yes. Fuck! Y/N, please.”

“I said no talking,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, stop.”

Dean shivered in protest but held his tongue, biting it to keep quiet. His face was pained, his muscles straining to hold back, his cock aching. You pulled your hands away and sat back, waiting as patiently as you could for Sam’s instruction.

“I guess it’s been too long,” Sam sighed and stood up. “You two don’t remember the rules.” He walked slowly towards the bed and you and Dean held your breath. “Y/N, on your back on the bed. Spread those legs for me.”

Without a word, you did as he asked, sinking into the middle of the mattress and pulling your knees apart. You cocked your head to look down at him and watched as Sam pulled Dean to standing. The brothers stood over you, once again taking their visual fill of your most intimate area.

“Look at that gorgeous pussy, Dean,” Sam said softly. “So warm, and wet, and sweet.” Dean let out a hum of desire and Sam fit his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, squeezing firmly. “That’s my pussy. It belongs to me.”

Dean nodded quickly.

Sam turned slightly so he was pressed against Dean’s side. He reached down and gripped Dean’s cock, closing his huge hand around the shaft. Dean gasped and closed his eyes. “This cock is mine. It belongs to me, too. You both do.” Sam rubbed the tip of Dean’s cock with his long thumb, and Dean swayed, dizzy, struggling to stay silent. “You are both mine. Do you understand?” Dean nodded and Sam stroked him gently. “Do you remember now?”

Dean nodded again, a moan stuck in his throat.

“Say it,” Sam ordered.

“Yes, Sir,” Dean whispered. “Yours.”

Sam smiled and released his hold on Dean’s erection. “My good boy.” He rubbed Dean’s neck soothingly and turned his eyes back to you. “Look at that, Dean; she’s so wet she’s dripping onto the bed.”

You bit your lip and whimpered; Sam’s words making you squirm.

Dean licked his lips and let out a loud breath.

Sam ran his hand gently down Dean’s back. “Do you want to taste it, Baby Boy?”

“Yes, Sir, please.”

“Do it.” Sam slapped Dean’s ass lightly and pushed him forward, stepping back to watch as he climbed onto the bed.

You held your breath as Dean approached, his eyes heavy with lust, his mouth glistening in the dim light. He gave you a slick smirk before placing a light kiss on your inner thigh and you wiggled your hips, desperate for attention.

When his tongue fluttered against your clit, sudden and hot, your shoulders shot up from the bed, a cry breaking loose from your tight lips. “Fuck!”

Sam laughed at your outburst and palmed his erection again, giving himself just a hint of friction over the dark gray slacks. “Feel good, Baby?”

Dean licked a wide stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking the pulsing bundle between his lips when he reached it. Your hips popped and you grabbed your tits, pinching your nipples as Dean lapped at your pussy. “Yes! Fuck!”

Dean’s shoulders shook with a proud laugh as your thighs began to shake, and he pulled back an inch to draw two thick fingers through your wetness.

“Please, Dean…” you whimpered, spreading your legs even wider, begging him to fuck you.

He pressed the very tips of his fingers into your entrance, but Sam held him back.

“No hands.”

You whined and looked to Sam, ready to complain, but gasped instead when Dean’s thick tongue plunged deep inside your pussy. “Oh, fuck!”

“How is that, Y/N?” Sam grinned down at you. “You like having Dean’s tongue inside you?”

“Yes!” you squeaked and then growled as the pleasure rolled up and down through you.”Feels so good. Amazing.”

“Good. Keep going, Dean.”

The pace quickened and Dean rubbed nose nose over your clit, bringing you right to the edge. You sat up, gripping the sheets, trying to hold back.

Desperately, you looked to Sam and pleaded: “Please, Sir, may I cum? I’m so close.”

“No.”

Sam’s denial echoed through the room and settled in your bones. You groaned but steeled yourself, taking a deep breath that Dean pushed out too quickly with a jab of his tongue. “Jes-fuc-oh my god.”

Dean hummed, sending a wave of delicate vibrations through your pussy and you nearly lost your mind.

“Please!”

Sam growled. “No. Dean, stop.”

There were tears in your eyes as Dean pulled away, but he did as he was told, leaving you shaking on the bed. He stood at the foot of the bed, his face and neck wet from sweat and your juices. His cock was huge and bobbed painfully as Dean moved.

“On the bed, Dean,” Sam said with a slight nod towards him. “Sit up against the headboard.” Dean moved into position and Sam cast his eyes back to you. “Y/N, on your hands and knees; back to me.”

It took a moment for your limbs to move, still shivering and aching from being so many times pulled back from the edge, but you did as you were told and flipped over, rising onto all fours. With Dean in place against the pillows, his legs fit perfectly around you, and you spared a long moment staring at his handsome cock, your lips twitching as your mouth watered.

Behind you, Sam undressed quickly. Dean’s eyes flickered upwards to watch him, but you were stuck facing away, and could only listen as buttons were popped and fabrics discarded.

“Look at you two,” Sam said as he kneeled on the bed. “Waiting so patiently like my good toys.” He inched closer and the bedsprings creaked under his weight. “That makes me very happy.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered and you shivered, sticking your ass out a little more for Sam. “Want to make you happy, Sir.”

“My Pretty Girl.”

Sam placed a hand on your back and let it slide slowly downwards. He cupped your ass gently before shoving three fingers into your cunt, making your entire body tense up deliciously. “You’re soaked.” He twisted his wrist and crooked his hand, gently petting your g spot. “So beautiful.”

His praise ran through you like fire. “Thank you, Sir,” you sighed, “always wet for you.”

“That’s right,” he whispered and used his free hand to collect the curtain of hair that covered your face. He gathered it into his fist and yanked, pulling you backwards, up onto your knees. “Always wet and horny. My perfect little fucktoy.”

You moaned loudly as you fell back onto his firm chest. “Fucktoy, yes. All yours!”

Happy with your answer, Sam pumped his hand faster and dragged his teeth across your shoulder, stopping here and there to suck tiny red marks that would blossom fully by morning. Dean gave a pathetic moan as he watched you both, and Sam took pity on him. He sucked your earlobe between his teeth and bit down quickly before whispering in your ear.

“Poor Dean looks lonely.” Sam licked your throat once more and then gave you a soft push forward. “Take care of him.”

You grinned happily, finally able to do what you’d been wanting to since you started. “Yes, Sir.” You dropped back down onto the bed and moved forward a tiny bit until you could reach Dean’s aching cock. Very slowly, you licked a line from base to tip and moaned excitedly as you pushed your lips down onto him.

Dean’s tight-lipped cry filled your ears and his big hand dropped to the back of your head. He rested there with a light pressure that increased slightly with each pass of your mouth over him.

Sam moved closer until his thighs pressed against your ass. He ran the tip of his cock slowly through your folds, coating it in your slick. He paused before pushing inside and bent over you to whisper again.

“Make him cum, Pretty Girl,” he instructed gently. “But don’t swallow. I want to taste him with you.”

When he finally slid inside, your entire body responded. Every muscle tightened, every cell screamed for more. You sank down on Dean’s cock, taking him in as deeply as your breath would allow, swallowing him down as Sam fucked you from behind, his strong hands gripping your hips, moving you into his rhythm.

Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair as he neared the end, his face twisted with effort, his hips jerking upwards to meet each bob of your head. He held back his words, biting his lip to keep quiet, struggling to hold on.

Sam’s lip curled into a primal sneer as he watched Dean fight the pleasure you gave him, knowing he wouldn’t cum until he was told. Just for fun, Sam slammed into you hard and pushed you forward onto Dean’s cock, holding you there with Dean deep inside your throat. You gagged around him and swallowed as best you could, choking his cock.

Sam laughed and eased up a bit, letting you catch your breath. “Go on, Dean,’ he urged in a growl. “Cum. Let it go. Paint her fucking mouth.”

Dean bucked his hips, fucking up into your hot mouth as he came, a wordless yell ripping from his gut. He flooded your mouth, hot and salty, and you held it there, refusing to swallow, sealing your lips around him lest you spill a single drop.

Before Dean could relax, Sam pulled you up and away, yanking you backwards with a strong arm across your middle. He sat back on his heels and pulled you against his chest, his hand snaking around your throat to turn your face to his. He twisted around you to take your lips, pressing his tongue into your mouth and lapping at Dean’s taste.

“Fucking delicious,” he moaned. “Both of you.”

Dean sank down into the pillows, exhausted and sated. His eyes fell shut as he caught his breath, his body melting into the mattress. You, however were not so lucky, and Sam held you upright against him as he used you; your head lolling against his shoulder, your hands clinging to the big forearm around your waist.

When he felt you tremble, Sam slowed his pace and kissed your neck. “Lay down,” he whispered and carefully let you down. You fell forward onto the mattress and flipped over, guided by a gentle tap against your ass.

Sam climbed down off the bed and stood at the edge, looking between you and Dean. “My perfect, obedient toys,” he praised and you sighed, smiling up at him. Without warning, Sam reached out and grabbed your legs, yanking you down to the end of the bed. “So good for me,” he went on as he sank into you again, picking up where he’d left off, driving his long shaft deep inside of you.

You clawed at his thick arms, whimpering with each quick thrust of his hips. “Sam… please… please…”

He grinned and leaned over you, crushing you with his full weight while he stole a kiss. He sucked the air from your lungs and nipped at your bottom lip as he pulled back. “Play with your clit, Baby,” he commanded as he pushed himself up onto his arms. “I want you to cum on my cock, Pretty Girl. I want to feel it.”

Your right hand dropped from his chest and flew to your pussy, immediately sparking the fire again. Your eyes flew open and your shoulders shot up, jolted by the fierce pulsing from your oversensitive clit. “Fuck!”

Sam smirked and called to Dean. “Come here.” When Dean was near, Sam stood up fully and gripped your hips, holding you still. “She likes it when you bite her nipples,” he said, nodding down at you. “Make her happy, Dean.’

Dean hummed simply in reply and laid down along your side, up on one elbow. His hands swirled around your breasts, sending a chill through you, perking your nipples as the skin tightened under his touch. When his lips pursed over your left nipple, you arched your back and whined, biting your lip to keep the curses inside.

Sam laughed. “Oh, she likes that; don’t you, Baby?”

The pleasure was too much suddenly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Dean pinched your right nipple between his thumb and middle finger, the callouses scratching your delicate skin as his teeth grazed your left, and you cried out, begging outright for release.

“Please!”

Sam’s short nails dug into your hips. “Please, what?” he growled.

Your eyes rolled, your body shook. “Please let me cum. Please!”

Sam grunted but gave you no answer.

Dean hummed and sucked on your nipple.

You cried, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes. “Please, Sir, may I cum for you?”

Sam’s thrusts became hard and steady. “Yes. Cum for me, Pretty Girl. Now.”

At once, you let go, your eyes rolling as your heart stopped for a split second. You held your breath as the pressure crested and then popped inside of you, exploding through your pussy and upwards, filling each inch of you with white hot pleasure. You cursed and pleaded, begged and screamed as Sam fucked you through it, reaching his own end as your pussy pulsed around him.

Dean rolled away to watch with half-mast eyes as Sam fell forward, snarling against your lips while he came. You held him tight, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, pushing your hands through his sweat dampened hair, whispering praises against his lips.

 

The rain had picked up, beating against the thin windows, flooding the parking lot. Every few minutes, the sky would light up and thunder would roll on by, making its presence known as it passed through the clouds.

You lay between the boys, your back curled into Dean’s front, your legs and arms tangled up with Sam’s. Dean snored lightly against your neck while you whispered nonsense to Sam, talking about everything and nothing. 

Dean startled as a crack of thunder shook the windows, and you laughed as he nuzzled closer, kicking his knee up behind yours.

“Man, I love a rainy day,” you mused with a yawn.

Sam brushed the hair back from your cheek and kissed your forehead. “You know it’s not supposed to stop raining until Wednesday,” he said in a whisper.

“It’s only Monday,” Dean mumbled into your hair, hugging you closer.

“Exactly,” Sam laughed and gave you a playful wink.

“Oh, lord,” you sighed and rolled your eyes. “You two are gonna kill me.”

Sam laughed and Dean nipped at your ear, rolling his hips against you suggestively. “Yeah, but what a way to go.”


End file.
